The Sentinel
by Daleksdoctor
Summary: Takes place on the Grey's honeymoon; Taylor breaks his silence and threatens Christian over the safety of Anastasia.


It wasn't his business.

It was in no way, shape, or form… his business.

At least, that's what Jason Taylor kept telling himself.

Three years of complete stoicism - that's what he had to show for the better part of his job. Three years of loyalty, of protecting, of being a sentinel. Three years of professional repression. He wasn't paid to be a friend. He wasn't paid to be a helping hand. He wasn't even paid to have an _opinion_.

But up until then, that had been ideal.

Taylor was good at his job. He was the perfect body guard, so it made sense for him to be working under someone as renowned and respected as CEO Christian Grey. Grey had always been generous at any rate - he was even paying for Sophia's schooling, which was not cheap by _any_ standard. He was a good employer. Troubled, maybe… but good.

And yet, now it was all Taylor could do to keep his mouth shut. The first couple of years under the steady hand of Mr. Grey proved to be simple in nature. Exemplarily peaceful for the most part. There had been virtually no nuisances to complain about, which is better than most people could say about their work. Yes, the preliminary four years had been quite the breeze.

However, everything changed when Anastasia Steele came into his life.

Anastasia was, in simple terms, exquisite. Ms. Steele was virtue embodied in a pale-skinned, delicate little frame. She was smart, well-versed, compassionate, beautiful, and talented to boot. Anastasia Steele was the kind of person who you wanted to be around all the time because _she_ made_ you_ a better person. Even Christian Grey.

Only a fool would deny Mr. Grey's feelings for her. They were clear and evident as day… even violent at times. During his time as personal security, Taylor had seen Mr. Grey be physically intimate with many different women - all of whom were neatly discarded after some time. They had all been polite, of course, even friendly to the hired help. But they never lasted long enough for Taylor to truly care about what happened to them after Mr. Grey had grown restless with their incessant need to be cared for.

It wasn't his place, after all.

But Anastasia - Ms. _Steele_ had been different. She was warm and welcoming, and Taylor soon found himself smiling in her presence - something unheard of with Mr. Grey's other submissives. Her thin, fragile body even caught his eye on a few occasions, though he was never willing to admit it, even to himself. Though her malnourished frame physique often left Taylor worried for her health, Ms. Steele was undeniably beautiful, and surely there was nothing wrong with appreciating that fact so long as he kept his well-groomed head out of the clouds long enough to realize that it was and never _would_ be appropriate to dwell on these same thoughts.

He had slipped on more than one occasion, however. But truth be told, Taylor would not have been a _man_ if he hadn't. No - his loose tongue had alerted Mr. Grey to the nature of his romantic, albeit innocent interest in the CEO's new-found wife, and in turn had received the proper scolding he'd earned from the possessive multi-millionaire. Fair enough.

Still… looking at Mrs. Steele - _Grey_ now provoked a fury in him that hadn't surfaced since his time spent on the front lines. The duo requested to be taken ashore to Paris so that they could spend their day shopping. Due to the previous afternoon's debacle, Taylor would have agreed that avoiding Europe's collection of nude beaches was 100% the correct decision. Yet, as he absentmindedly followed the newly weds, he couldn't help but notice angry red welts that stretched around Anastasia's wrists like thick, ugly bracelets. A heated blush rose to his cheeks as Taylor witnessed how Ana clutched onto Mr. Grey tightly while he lead the bulk of his security team through the ocean's frothy waves via the new purchase of his sleek jet skis. A quick scan of her ankles showed more of the gnarled, puckered wounds, and it took every ounce of self-control for the ex-military man to keep his mobile from shattering under his shaking hands. A deep breath helped relieve the tension from his now constricted chest, but he truly didn't know how long he could last like this.

The car ride back from the art gallery certainly hadn't helped, either.

"I want to look at your ankles."

Taylor gracefully ignored the way Mr. Grey gently handed Ana's feet on his lap and continued to stare out the Audi's window while Gaston drove wordlessly.

"Doesn't hurt."

Doesn't hurt? Doesn't _hurt_?

"Hey. What did you expect?"

Mr. Grey sighed and subsequently released her limbs from his hold. "I didn't expect to feel like I do looking at these marks."

Taylor honestly felt like laughing, given the circumstance. How _was_ he supposed to feel after knowing that his over-zealous bedroom behavior had injured this precious woman? After _seeing_ the indisputable evidence of her protesting body? He couldn't help but deviate his gaze a little so that it was on Mr. Grey's perturbed face. Did the man not realize just how incompatible his lifestyle is with her?

Was he in denial? Or was he just plain _arrogant _about it?

He grimaced to himself and felt a wave of anger wash over his shoulders, so that he had to force himself to relax. Before he knew it, however, Mr. Grey had noticed his shift in posture and was staring into his bodyguard's eyes with a puzzled sort of look. Taylor held his employer's gaze for a brief moment and then turned his head away, but not before noticing the dark shadow that passed over the CEO's handsome features.

Taylor guessed that he would be addressed later for his obvious, if silent intercession.

But for once, he _welcomed_ it.

—

And right as ever, the confrontation _did_ come later.

The night's moon was bright and high up in the French horizon as Jason Taylor leaned against the yacht's balcony. He resided on the deck, just like he always did at this hour, and watched the bustling city lights go out one by one across the ocean's restless landscape. Taylor heard Mr. Grey before he saw him; the heavy and deliberate footsteps could only belong to one person as they crashed along the top of his gracious honeymoon present.

"Taylor!"

Carefully arranging his expression into his usual, stoic mask, Taylor straightened his legs and pivoted to face Christian, who haughtily had already folded his arms over his bare chest.

"Mr. Grey, sir?"

Christian was visibly upset now. His squared off jaw twitched as he clenched and unclenched his teeth, and Taylor resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the hypersensitive businessman.

"Do we have a _problem_?"

"Sir?"

Christian scoffed once and took another step towards his head-of-security.

"Don't pretend you weren't glaring while we were in the limo earlier this afternoon. If you have something to say, say it now before I go back to bed. I wouldn't want to keep my _wife_ waiting too long."

Taylor nearly growled in response to Christian's cheap shot, and he cleared his throat before the angry noise became too conspicuous for his own good.

"_Well_? Anything you want to share?"

"No, sir," Taylor managed flatly, aware that both hands now yearned to curl into fists. "I sincerely apologize for my unprofessional manner. Forgive me."

The erratic twitch in Christian's jaw halted all movement then, and he swallowed thickly while raking his eyes up and down the sentinel's massive frame. Slowly unfurling his arms, Mr. Grey proceeded to nod stiffly in seemingly unwilling concession.

"You better be. And Taylor? Don't make it a habit of staring at Anastasia for too long. She's _mine_ now, for better or for worse," Christian chortled out as he proudly raised his left hand - no doubt to flash his wedding band at the silent guard. "Do you understand?"

Taylor wanted to walk away. He _wanted_ to let it go. But he couldn't anymore - not right now, after this childish display of pure, unadulterated crudeness.

Jason Taylor had had _enough_.

"Sir, if i may say something."

Christian blinked once and lazily arched an eyebrow in reply.

Taylor inhaled deeply before stepping forward, feeling the much needed oxygen rush into his frantic lungs.

"It's as much my duty to protect the entirety and well-being of Mrs. Grey as it is _Mr_. Grey, is it not?"

At Taylor's advance, Jason couldn't help but notice Christian's frame tense up like steel wire. He paused then, trying not to feel too much satisfaction in regards to that.

"What are you getting at, Taylor?"

And that, as they say, was the end of that.

Mr. Grey had never looked smaller to Taylor now than he did right there and then. The wealthy CEO seemed to shrink away from him as he felt his own muscles tighten and beg for release. In one fluid movement, Taylor closed the distance between himself and his employer, so that the arrogant, entitled adolescent was forced to lean backwards if he was to look Taylor straight in the eyes.

"Sir, if I may be frank with you. I've served you now for many years now as a loyal and trust-worthy employee. I've always been clear about how much I appreciate your generosity, and how it extends not only to me, but also to my daughter as well. Now with that being said… I would advise you to listen closely to me if it _pleases_ you," he drawled on bitterly. Taylor steeled himself against Christian's furious gaze once more and managed to speak out in the lowest tone he could coherently manage.

"I care about Anastasia, sir, as you do. We _all_ do. She is the best thing that has ever happened to your household, if I am to continue being frank. Now, with _that_ being said," he snarled out, "Rest assured that I will do anything to protect the lady at -_all-_ costs. That _includes_ you, Mr. Grey, do _you _understand? I don't believe that you would ever intentionally hurt Anastasia, because I am, of course, aware of the severity of what you feel for her. And yet, despite this, I will not, nor will I _ever_ ignore, neglect, or tolerate _any_ bodily scrapes, cuts, burns, marks, or general _contusions_ that somehow, by accident or not, appear on the girl's visible body."

"If you are even _slightly_ insisting that I—"

"_Be quiet_," Taylor snapped. His voice was dark and savage, like a whip that lashed out perfectly and cut the rest of Christian's words into invisible ribbons. The handsome man paled instantly, his eyebrows continuing to rise in incredulousness at his employee's threatening demeanor towards him.

"You want her safe."

Christian's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits then. "What?"

Was he being _deliberately_ obtuse? Taylor shuddered slightly, unable keep the rise out of his voice then. "You. Want. Her. _Safe_," he all but hissed out between closed teeth. Isn't that correct, Mr. Grey?"

"Of _course_ I want her safe!" Christian plainly shouted.

Taylor did not flinch, but merely smiled, though the gesture did not reach the rest of his face.

"Good. Then for your sake, make sure to keep it that way, sir. "

He left Christian frozen in place and started to shuffle out of his way. He was tired. In fact, he had never been more exhausted than he was right then and there, and so he barely even noticed Christian calling out to his now-sagging shoulders.

"For your years as a faithful and diligent security head, Jason, I'm going to do you a _large_ favor and pretend like all of this fucking _horse-shit_ never happened. From now on, if you even so much as _look_ at me without permission, _you _can rest assured that you will be terminated on the spot, along with every asset that I currently provide for your daughter. You're on thin ice, Taylor. Don't fuck this up. And stay _away_ from Anastasia."

Taylor didn't have the heart to respond much. He stopped at once, his back still to the CEO, and turned his head to the side before nodding reservedly in civil understanding.

"Sir."

And with that, he left the sputtering business man alone on the deck of his own ship that night, feeling not even the slightest bit more confident about Anastasia's future safety with that man.


End file.
